


Forget-Me-Not

by dango96



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dango96/pseuds/dango96
Summary: Seteth and Jeralt share a moment together at the Garreg Mach cemetery — remembering the ones they have lost in the past, and perhaps discovering something new.
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/Seteth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Forget-Me-Not

Over twenty years. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, but it has.

The name on the gravestone has been worn away by time, but Jeralt remembers, even if no one else does. Even if Rhea considers her an acceptable casualty, just another sacrifice in the name of the Goddess.

Flowers don’t feel like enough of a tribute. Forget–me–nots and daffodils, things she once loved. Distant memories float to the forefront of his mind like offerings before her — her fingers weaving a crown of blossoms, placing it on his head, laughing at the contrast of his rough features against delicate blooms.

Her laugh was so sweet. He loved to hear it, would do anything to hear it again. A perfect sound, clear as a bell on a winter’s morning.

“Captain Jeralt?”

The voice of another jolts him out of his thoughts, and he grunts in acknowledgment. He finishes laying the flowers over the grave, sitting back on the grass, looking up at the source of the disturbance.

Seteth. The archbishop’s right hand. The last thing he wants to see is one of Rhea’s lackeys right now, but there he is regardless, standing with his back straight and his arms behind him, looking for all the world like the most straight–laced bastard in Fódlan.

“Professor Byleth told me I might find you here,” he continues, despite the lack of a real response. Jeralt feels himself bristle as the man takes a few steps closer. “I wasn’t aware your wife was laid to rest at this place.”

Jeralt wants nothing more than to snap that it’s none of his damn business, to tell him to fuck off for all that the Church has done to them, did to _her_. But there’s something in Seteth’s eyes that stops him — something faraway and melancholy as he stares at the nameless grave, as if he’s seeing something or someone else.

“It never gets easier, does it?” Seteth comments softly, and suddenly, Jeralt _understands._ He recognizes the look in Seteth’s eyes as the same feeling that’s been plaguing his heart all morning.

And for all that Rhea did, it doesn’t seem like Seteth knows. He doesn’t act guilty enough, suspicious enough. Jeralt still trusts him about as far as he can throw him, but he feels his walls starting to come down at the prospect of commiserating, of having someone who shares his pain.

“Yeah,” Jeralt sighs heavily, closing his eyes. “It really doesn’t. How long has it been for you?”

“Many long years. I stopped keeping track of them a long time ago.”

Jeralt can’t help raising his eyebrows at that. Seteth looks younger than he does, doesn’t exactly look like the kind of man who would have been widowed for ages — but to be fair, Lady Rhea hasn’t aged a day since he left, either. Hell, Jeralt himself hasn’t, thanks to Rhea’s meddling. So it really isn’t that strange to imagine Seteth could be far older than he looks.

He opens his eyes. Hesitates, briefly, knows how painful the question can be — and asks it as delicately as possible. “What was she like?”

“Kind, always kind. Gentle with everyone. And so, so talented, whether it was at cooking, or fishing…” Seteth’s body sinks with a heavy sigh as he takes a seat next to Jeralt on the grass, cross–legged, staring into the distance at the mountains surrounding them.

Jeralt watches him curiously, and for the first time, he notices the crow’s feet around Seteth’s eyes, the subtle bags underneath. Most of his face is youthfully smooth, but stress always takes its toll on a man.

“Some days, I can hardly remember her face,” Seteth remarks quietly, dismally. “Just her eyes. She always… had such beautiful eyes.”

“I know that feeling,” Jeralt mumbles in reply, and feels a stab of guilt for it. That, at least, is soothed by the knowledge that he’s not alone. “At least I’ve got By to remind me of her. Some days, she’s the spitting image of her mother… except, she smiled a lot more than By does.”

Seteth chuckles quietly, and for a moment, looks like he’s about to say something more — but whatever it is, he seems to think twice about sharing it. They simply sit in peaceful silence for a while, staring at clouds.

And Jeralt thinks that maybe, just maybe, this guy isn’t so bad.

Finally, Seteth breaks the silence, looking over at him. “Would you care to join me for some tea in my office?”

Jeralt pauses, wrinkling his nose just a little. He doesn’t want to turn down the gesture of politeness, doesn’t even particularly mind the idea of spending more time in the man’s company. But the idea of sitting at a fancy little table, sipping leaf juice like these noble brats, makes him feel sick to his stomach.

“Not that I mind, but you got anything stronger than tea?”

Seteth blanches slightly, only for a moment — but then he _laughs_ , sincere and bright. Jeralt is treated to a rare, genuine smile, one that makes the corners of Seteth’s eyes crinkle upward, and it _does_ something to him; he sucks in a breath and forgets to release it, feels his pulse stirring, heart fluttering.

He suddenly realizes that Seteth is a very handsome man.

“I do,” Seteth answers warmly, once the laughter has died down. “But I hope you won’t mind if I change the invitation to an evening one. I’d prefer to finish my paperwork first, if we are to indulge in spirits.”

“Yeah,” Jeralt replies, once he gets his brain to start working again. He exhales, looking down at the ground, trying to figure out what just happened, and why his face feels so hot. “Yeah. Well. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“I look forward to it, Jeralt.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed my work!


End file.
